As a passing cloud

lit by moonlight marked

a rimmed spectacle

of a tv arial

I shifted weight and blinked

and recalled wordless feelings

before trying to put into words

useless aphorisms.

 

It's the words

with their wanton

un-mouthed ache

that bleat silently

against the ear

and tangle those as yet

un-marked and un-surveyed

desires while their cerebral

obliterating duster transforms

an ancient passion

into a smudge.

 

I blinked again and returned

to my frosted gate and

pausing catch a reflection

of the nearly moon emerge

from those hiding clouds-

and for an instant

my feelings,

unwritten, unspoken return...

 

Words and image Tommy Carroll